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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941942">soft rains inside my dreams</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahealthyscalp/pseuds/cloudsmove'>cloudsmove (ahealthyscalp)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>(여자)아이들 | (G)I-DLE</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Science Fiction, yes to robot arm miyeon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:13:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23941942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahealthyscalp/pseuds/cloudsmove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s 3009, Miyeon just wants the world to burn along with its soulmate-obsessed population. </p><p>In which Miyeon can’t stand her friends being disgusting with their soulmates so she plays retro video games (Animal-Crossing) to self-medicate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cho Miyeon/Yeh Shuhua</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue - it's raining, loser</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was thinking, robot-arm Miyeon, why not. It's galaxy brain season because my exams have ended so I'mma toss this one at you. </p><p>Cross-posted on aff</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sickly blue-green, a ghostly shade, radiated from the screen on the wall. It was the only source of light, but it didn’t matter in the seemingly quiet house. Its only occupant had gone to bed, gears broken down, dreaming of electric sheep. The classic case of overheating.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A man dressed prim and proper in a suit and tie spoke on the screen. Holding sheets of paper, posing motionless at a desk, staring straight with a peculiar click in his facial features. He faintly spasmed, a tiny twitch that cannot be caught by the human eye. Waves of colour bars and time codes cut across for a second before pixels shift. The headline flashed yellow, interrupting the unnatural blue-green. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, would you look at that! Here on Channel 76, a special report has come in. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His voice was a low rumble, each syllable pronounced precisely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Today is a special day, mark it on your calendars, folks. A brilliant discovery today, April 1st, 3010. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The screen flickered, switching scenes to a woman, her movements mechanical to no fault. Her mouth crinkled, pulling tight corners up on both sides. She spoke, similar to the man. Uncanny to the tee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Reporting live from the General Institute, we’re breaking news that you’ve all longed to hear. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Those tight corners stretched and stretched, revealing perfect teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Finding your soulmate in this world hasn’t been easy and many of you have given up. I know needless tears have been shed on drunken nights, crying yourselves to sleep. But you no longer have to worry about a lonely future without your destined significant other. Thanks to the team here at the General Institute, you can build your own soulmate. That’s right. You heard it, androids are the future in your love horizon!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The static returned, progressively blaring louder, tarnishing the woman’s polished grin for the camera and a final buzz cut the screen to black. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>On the opposite wall, there hung an auto-calendar. A steel frame, glowing neon green digital letters and numbers. The marvel of technology ceased its constant </span><em><span>tick </span></em><span>for the bright 7</span> <span>to fade into an 8</span><em><span>. </span></em><span>The </span><em><span>tock </span></em><span>resumed, displaying the new date. April 28, 3014. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then the rain fell for hours, through the early morning. Its pattering was white noise, refusing to disturb those asleep. Like it was programmed from a weather station far behind the hills where the white coats scurry to and fro. The rain carried on as the figure on the grungy couch slumbered fitfully. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the living room, nothing sang when Miyeon awoke, no </span>
  <em>
    <span>get up, loser! </span>
  </em>
  <span>The morning house didn’t lay empty, but the droplets pelting against the roof made it seem so hollow. A repetition that didn’t cease, didn’t comfort, accentuating the vacancy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seven o’clock! Seven o’clock! </span>
  </em>
  <span>once rang through the hallway, courtesy of the voice-clock, reminding her, forcing her awake. She twisted around, trying to throw the blanket off. Too hot, too fiery for her skin, she wanted it gone. The gears in her left arm whirred to life, a warm humming within then a </span>
  <em>
    <span>clack. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She groaned, heaving her right arm over, smacking her left until she felt the gears slot into place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Flexing the muscles in her back, she sat up, swinging her legs, pushing aside the blanket, revealing smooth seamless joints. A metallic sheen, the product of naive days a few years back. Her left hand was her dominant and at first, it took a while adjusting to the feeling of machinery inside her limb. Now it was second-nature, minus the occasional seized bolt.        </span>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hobbled to the window, eyes sweeping over the picturesque scene of suburbia, the white picket fences, freshly-cut grass, impeccable gardens, greenhouses. All on the other side of the street.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning to the nearby lever, she pulled on it. Iron curtains coming in, locking together and the room darkened. She could still find her way around.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her stomach rumbled, but the kitchen wasn’t on her mind. Her hands found the closet instead, opening it to broken parts, a lawn-mower snapped in two. Mismatched machinery, a voice-clock at the bottom of the pile. She picked it up and blew away the dust. Holding it close to herself.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miyeon grabbed the batteries and the voice-drives lying about. She returned to where she left off last night. Without thinking twice, she clambered onto her workbench. Androids wouldn’t scold her for having dirty feet on the flawless surface, there wasn’t anyone here to yell at her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She got to work, screwing bolts, hammering nails. The batteries went in here and she hesitated, looking at the voice-drives. Several of them, labelled with different coloured tape. Bright red, orange, and yellow. Somber grays and blacks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The downpour hadn’t stopped yet. She could hear the deafening pattering, relentless. Perhaps a storm had struck their city because the white coats were in a foul mood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gray it was, she decided, plucking the cracked voice-drive. It was in a worse condition than the rest, having visible signs of wear. Having been stomped on and torn apart. She inserted it into the voice-clock, not caring that she had to jam it in harder. Back hunched, horrible posture aside, she resumed whatever she was doing. Hands flew, working harder. Just so she could be on time for eight o’clock.       </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a while, she was satisfied, knowing it was 7:59 even without someone to tell her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miyeon set down the screw driver, ended the tinkering, laid her hands to rest. The voice-clock buzzed to life. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>click</span>
  </em>
  <span>, some static, a lull. Heavy static returned, accompanied with a gravelly voice. Clinging onto amateur workings and shoddily put-together bolts. Dying, crackling. It’s not quite there.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey loser, don’t forget your umbrella! </span>
  </em>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I listened to Lorde’s Buzzcut Season and read Ray Bradbury’s There Will Come Soft Rains. In tiny brain at 2 am fashion, I decided to write this abomination that mashes together every sci-fi trope you’ve probably encountered before. </p><p>Hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Maybe there will be a part two if there’s enough interest in it. </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. we were learning about 2020</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> December 3009 </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s not Miyeon’s fault that she’s sitting here in the library, cradling her head at the long table, experiencing her quarter life crisis. At the ripe age of 20. </p><p> </p><p>Things happen. She thought she could choose anything for her electives and 21st century history seemed easy enough. The online forums she visited were very convincing, saying that even a major in robotics, such as herself, could pass the course without batting an eye. </p><p> </p><p>Well. </p><p> </p><p>It was easy at first and she didn’t have any problems understanding the material. It was so easy that she’d doze off during lectures. That soon turned into skipping lectures altogether in favor of staying home to play Animal Crossing, (she’d been working hard to code said ancient relic of a game).</p><p> </p><p>Cost-benefit analysis, is she right? She didn’t buy the required holo-textbook either.</p><p> </p><p>$165 was saved in the process so she spent it on plastic, gears, wires and metal. It was for a good cause, she had managed to recreate a Nintendo Switch. Red and blue, sleek in its original glory.  </p><p> </p><p>Months later, Miyeon realizes something important.</p><p> </p><p>She knows nothing about the early 21st century. </p><p> </p><p>To make matters worse, she has a paper due in a day which she hasn’t started yet (according to her friends). She pleads otherwise, since the bibliography is typed out and ready to go. There’s also another tiny problem. </p><p> </p><p>The paper must draw its sources from the holo-textbook. The one that she opted to not buy.</p><p> </p><p>At least she’s not the only one deeply regretting her choices and freaking out. Frantically typing their last minute papers at the table. There are ten of them, each passing back and forth the holo-textbook, having to share because all of them refused to be slaves of capitalism. </p><p> </p><p><em> Tap. Tap. </em>Fingers drumming, she reminds herself to relax. Come tomorrow, everything will be over. She’ll be done; she’ll never have to learn about 2020 and how much of a disaster that year was. </p><p> </p><p>She has her topic figured out, (the conspiracy theories surrounding whether the zombie outbreak was a hoax). She’ll have multiple paragraphs dedicated to specific countries, analyzing possible outbreak origins, but ultimately leaning towards America as the culprit in the conclusion. It doesn’t seem to be too far fetched as everyone knows America in the 2000s showcased shit going down the capitalism drain. Truly a solid plan, everything is looking good. </p><p> </p><p>Except the girl beside her is taking too long, hogging the holo-textbook.  </p><p> </p><p>Miyeon doesn’t want to be rude, the girl does seem to be super stressed. Pressing buttons incessantly, scanning through glowing blue pages, groaning, legs shaking. The whole table shakes with her. </p><p> </p><p>Screw it. Decency needs to be forgotten in these desperate times. Miyeon nudges her, gently on the shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>“Can I have it?” The girl spares her a glance, frowning deeply, then returns to the pages. </p><p> </p><p>She tries again. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, can I have it? Everyone else is also waiting for their turn.” Miyeon gestures to the other grumpy students. </p><p> </p><p>“Give me a minute.” Nose crinkling, flipping her hair. Black strands smack Miyeon face first. </p><p> </p><p>It’s going to be a long night. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><strong>[Minnie] </strong>Grades are out!</p><p> </p><p><strong>[Yuqi] </strong>Hide me from my mother</p><p> </p><p><strong>[Minnie] </strong>Bruh. You’re the genius of the group. You get 98s while the rest of us scrape by with 60s</p><p> </p><p><strong>[Yuqi] </strong>Hide my mother’s slipper if you’re not going to hide me</p><p> </p><p><strong>[Miyeon] </strong>fuck</p><p> </p><p><strong>[Yuqi] </strong>I know, the slipper hurts</p><p> </p><p><strong>[Minnie] </strong>you’re dumb, the afd is worse</p><p> </p><p><strong>[Yuqi] </strong>afd?</p><p> </p><p><strong>[Minnie] </strong>auto-feather duster </p><p> </p><p><strong>[Miyeon] </strong>no you guys, I don't want to see my history grade</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Miyeon waits, busying herself with inspecting the color-changing doorbell. Green and red. Quite the contrast to her own house, where her father insists on ash gray to scare away the trespassers. </p><p> </p><p>The door flies open, revealing a beaming Minnie, ushering her in. Like clockwork, Miyeon goes to the living room.</p><p> </p><p>There’s no room on the couch. Yuqi, Soojin, and another girl with bob hair are occupying it. Eyes glued to the movie playing on the giant screen in the wall. And wow. </p><p> </p><p>“Yuqi. You actually have a girlfriend?” says Miyeon. The girl is close to Yuqi. Very close. As in there’s almost negative space. Miyeon raises an eyebrow at Yuqi’s hand, sneaking around the girl’s waist. </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, she’s real. You thought I was joking, huh?” Yuqi smirks and Miyeon doesn’t really know how to feel about that. The girl pipes up, “Hi, I’m Soyeon.” Miyeon waves.  </p><p> </p><p>“Soulmates?”</p><p> </p><p>“Them? Yeah, they’re soulmates!” says Minnie, having returned, carrying cans of soda in her arms. Passing one to each of them, then sitting down on the floor, fitting right between Soojin’s legs. </p><p> </p><p>Is this what it feels like to fifth-wheel? Miyeon resigns to her spot on the floor, resting her back against the couch. Curling up, pulling her knees to her body. </p><p> </p><p>“Want to see?” Yuqi thrusts out her forearm, rolling up her sleeve. In a neat typewriting font, the numbers <em> 3073 </em>are emblazoned.    </p><p> </p><p>The year when Yuqi’s soulmate will die.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s cool,” says Miyeon. Yuqi gives her a pointed look. What else is she supposed to say? Congratulations Soyeon, you will live to the old age of 84?</p><p> </p><p>No, she’s not bitter. She is happy for Yuqi and Soyeon. They get to spend the rest of their lives together, doing lovey-dovey whoever knows what. Go house-hunting like a happy pair of lesbians.  </p><p> </p><p>She won’t lie that she feels a bit… left out. Yuqi and Soyeon. Minnie and Soojin. They don’t have to worry about finding their soulmates anymore.</p><p> </p><p>Minnie had met Soojin when they were still in highschool. Freshman year, a dodgeball to Minnie’s gut, courtesy of Soojin’s mechanical right arm, and a trip to the nurse’s office later, boom. Soulmates. </p><p> </p><p>That left Yuqi and Miyeon. The single ladies. Braving through highschool, teasing Minnie and her messy collar. The girl would be scrambling to wear her uniform properly after a trip to the washroom. Miyeon had sworn she had definitely seen Soojin exit slightly earlier, clothes in an equal state of disarray. </p><p> </p><p>Tonight confirms Miyeon as the only one left without a soulmate. She saw it coming though, Yuqi had been turning down her invites to hang out more often, citing she had met someone special.</p><p> </p><p>Miyeon just thought it was an elaborate prank. Yuqi has always loved to bluff.</p><p> </p><p>An elbow in her side breaks her out of her thoughts. “One of Soojin’s friends is also coming over tonight so you won’t have to be alone, stewing in your misery,” whispers Minnie. </p><p> </p><p>“Who?” Minnie shrugs, looking up at Soojin who smiles and says, “You’ll see. She’s a nice girl.” Minnie chimes in, “Get the door when she’s here, you should introduce yourself to her properly.” </p><p> </p><p>“Can’t your robot do that?” Miyeon replies.  </p><p> </p><p>The doorbell rings. Another elbow to her side. Harder.</p><p> </p><p>Miyeon doesn’t want to be elbowed for the third time. Standing, leisurely strolling to the door, she swings it open. </p><p> </p><p>Oh. Not this bitch.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You thought you had seen the last of me for this fic, but I’m back lol. </p><p>Strangely enough, I was listening to EXO-CBX’s Rhythm After Summer and it just clicked. Voilà, the continuation to my mishu sci-fi au. I’ll add chapters whenever the inspo strikes again. </p><p>Thanks for reading and encouraging me to write a sequel.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. pretty sure she's nice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Forgive her, she couldn’t school her expression into that of a warm, inviting one. Miyeon immediately scowls. Glowering despite the ugly crease on her forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She remembers alright. It’s not easy to forget a night of hair lashing her in the face, her temper being tested when she’s trying her darn best to be a ray of sunshine. Because of that insanely cocky excuse of a human being who’s now at the doorstep. Eyes widening in recognition then returning an equally steely glare. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s heard about her. How she’s one of those arts kids, a history major who studies dead Angelas and Georges, events that occurred millions of years ago. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For fun. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl is a special breed, maybe born from the pits of the seventh circle of hell; it’s not simply because she’s a history major. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miyeon doesn’t step aside and the girl doesn’t make a move either. Both of them standing at an impasse, locked in an icy standoff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s taking you guys so long?” calls Soojin. Turning around, she sees Soojin getting up, coming to the door, a reluctant Minnie detaching from her with a pout. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soojin raises an eyebrow, looking back and forth between the two of them. Frozen at the door. “Do you know each other?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Miyeon mutters. “Unfortunately.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” says the girl brusquely. No? How dare this girl forget. Grumbling, absorbed in her thoughts, Miyeon is gently pushed aside by Soojin. Making way for the smiling spawn of hell to enter, smug and outright mocking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miyeon wants nothing more than to punch those sickening lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, this is Shuhua. The grouch here is Miyeon,” says Soojin. Now that she has a name to the face, it’ll be that much sweeter cursing the girl in her dreams. And outside of them too. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miyeon doesn’t hesitate to drag Minnie to the bathroom, the door instantly locking behind them. “Kim Minnie!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miyeon paces around in the small space, trying to find the right words, her anger turning her into a jittery mess. “Why didn’t you tell me Soojin’s friend is…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shuhua?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Grabbing the other girl by the collar, she shakes her back and forth like a ragdoll. Minnie shoves her back, pulling her brows together in a frown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong? You don’t even know her!” protests Minnie.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s the girl I told you about!” A blank look greets her. “The one at the library!” A belated gasp of realization. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The one who hogged the holo-text all night so you grabbed it from her, but then you guys simulated a game of tug-of-war so it ended up smashing on the ground?” says Minnie all in one breath. Miyeon is seething. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She tried to tear it from my hands.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you stupidly decided to hold on for dear life.” Her friend reaches for the door and Miyeon quickly slaps her hand away. Not too hard, but enough to send the message across. She’s being serious here!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t have shown up today if I had known,” Miyeon grits out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For the last time, I had no clue it was going to be her. Soojin didn’t tell me anything that would’ve made me realize, ‘oh! It’s the girl who reduced you to a dumbass immature child in public.’”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She has the grounds to be suspicious, judging by the creeping grin Minnie is failing to hide. Was it all a set-up? Minnie wouldn’t intentionally do this, stringing her into a situation with her self-declared nemesis. Proclaimed on a drunken night after finals. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really.” Minnie coughs, now unable to stop smiling altogether, looping an arm around hers. Miyeon unsuccessfully brushes her off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on, you know I’ll always be on your side, I would’ve kept her away from you with a ten-foot pole or the heat hawk in my basement so you wouldn’t run into her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have a super-heated, thermal axe in your basement?” Miyeon is amazed. Leave it to Minnie to possess an illegal, classified level five weapon in her house. The General Institute banned heat hawks since their inception.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I found an old blueprint deep in the Institute’s archives so I just had to replicate it. You can see it later, it’s fully functional, cuts through anything like it’s cake.” Sometimes, Miyeon hates how smart Minnie is. Damn engineering kids. Always showing off. “But we’re going off topic. Miyeon, you should try to enjoy the rest of the day. Give her a chance.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you guys got off on the wrong foot. She can’t be that bad, Soojin heavily insisted on inviting her,” Minnie adds. Like it makes it that much better, name-dropping her soulmate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shuhua,” Miyeon clicks her tongue in annoyance, “she pulled out a clump of my hair when we fought.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Out of sheer embarrassment, she hadn’t told anyone this before. It’s one thing to lose a fight (that she clearly hadn’t lost), it’s another to see another girl holding bits of her hair in triumph. The rest of it on the ground. She points to the left side of her head, motioning vigorously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minnie offers her nothing. Holding her palms up, shrugging and exuding nonchalance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I had to visit the doctor’s to regrow it! So don’t hold me back when I go back downstairs because that bitch deserves what’s coming for her,” she snarls.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, but before you engage in a smackdown, can you listen to me for a sec?” Miyeon crosses her arms, leaning against the sink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Soojin has only said good things to me about her. How she’s really kind and how she once stayed up all night to help Soojin with her business project.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ve got to be more convincing than that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She also volunteers at the hospital from time to time?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t care less.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s so selfless she never takes the last slice of pizza?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Miyeon resigns herself to her fate or else they’ll both stay in this cramped bathroom forever, debating the merits of that insufferable girl. She could handle one day, she’s better than this. Generally, she has always been a relatively calm person (her own words). No fluctuations in mood or sudden bouts of anger. She can’t remember the last time she lost her temper before the scuffle at the library. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something about Shuhua is just plain irritating, making her blood boil. “Fine. If tonight goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Squirming, Miyeon sits in her spot. On the ground, beside Shuhua. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shuhua gives her a once over, quietly snorting, then her eyes flicker back to the screen. The movie they’re watching was great at the beginning. Similar to many other jump-scare horror films, it devolved into a ketchup stab fest halfway through. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Safe to say, there isn’t much plot happening and they’ve begun to take bets on who the final girl would be to entertain themselves.    </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who wants–”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, Yuqi,” says Minnie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To play?” finishes Yuqi, producing a micro-cartridge out of nowhere. VR games are one of their favourites and Yuqi would team up with her, Soojin with Minnie. Now that her friends are perfectly paired off with their soulmates, that leaves her with the remainder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She has no reason to believe this will end well. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading.  </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. amnesia, but there is no dark descent</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Baring her forearm, Miyeon stays still while Yuqi tapes the small rectangular device to her skin, barely covering her radial pulse, binding the blue and red wires coming out of it around her arm. Securely. With electro tape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miyeon winces. “Yuqi.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Too tight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wires loosening, the binding is redone. The pressure in her arm subsides slowly. Yuqi steps back. “Better? I’ve been recalibrating everything, the electric shock in particular. The sting will be an even lighter pinch than before, you might not even feel it.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The tingle running through her arm after every gaming session won’t be missed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And we’re done, it looks good. Though it would look even better if you just let me graft a microreader on your skin. We won’t have to do this every single time,” says Yuqi. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d take the shock over the graft.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“To each their own.” Yuqi claps once, “all right, gather around. Listen up, sweaties. And sweetie,” directing finger guns at Soyeon, “we’re talking semantics.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minnie raises her hand. “You mean you’re explaining what virtual world you’ve designed this time around?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Damn it, Minnie. Let me have my moment. Anyway, I won’t spoil what’s going to happen, but please don’t sue me if you feel like you’re about to see Jesus. Now hold on tight to your partner and we’ll be on our way in a few seconds.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shuffling closer to Shuhua, awkwardly linking their arms together, Miyeon avoids eye contact. As best as she can.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“First pair out of the maze wins my sincere congratulations!” says Yuqi. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something is horribly wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Opening her eyes, the world is too dark, a single light in the distance. Nausea washes over as Miyeon fights the urge to stumble. Pulling on Shuhua’s arm, she remains upright. Only because of the hand on her back, steadying her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> She’s dragged to the light. Forcefully.   </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Someone is yelling and she can’t tell who it is. The words are a jumbled mess, going in and out her ears, until the world stops shifting, images clicking into place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, watch it!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaking her head, the familiar hazy stupor muddles her ability to think. Concentrating, she focuses on her surroundings. On Shuhua. Willing the images to be clear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Breathing steadily, everything sharpens at once under the torch’s flame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seeing their arms still linked, Miyeon practically jumps away. Creating much needed distance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arms crossed, scoffing, Shuhua is unfazed. “You’re the biggest loser I’ve ever met.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, the same goes for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever, let’s get out of here. This place is giving me the creeps,” mutters Shuhua under her breath. That is one thing that she can agree on. It’s too quiet. Apart from the sound of their footsteps, she can’t hear anything else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There aren’t any bloodstains on the low ceiling or skeletons chilling on the ground. They can’t see more than two meters in front of them, dim torches pop into view every so often. A couple of doors here and there (which they don’t bother opening). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Visually and auditorily, the labyrinth isn’t frightening. Miyeon isn’t about to crumple in a heap and rip the microreader off her arm, sending herself back to reality. Electric shock and all.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though she should learn to refrain from making assumptions.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She picks up on a grating sound. Like nails scratching on a chalkboard. “Did you hear that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No?” replies Shuhua. Forging onward confidently to the next section of the hallway. Void of torches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miyeon follows Shuhua and she thinks she’s going insane. The noise is magnifying. As if it’s right beside her ear. Grinding. “Do you really not hear it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hear what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then dizziness returns in spades. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The walls seem to be shifting up and down, teetering. Reaching forward, pawing for anything, Miyeon grabs onto shoulders. Shuhua’s shoulders? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it gets worse because she's pretty sure she hears fiendish giggling, a child’s voice singing about a shark on loop. Disorienting her further.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But it all ends as she feels a strong grip on her arm, around the microreader digging into her skin, she registers one last thought before losing control. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She should sue Yuqi after this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>---- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Regaining consciousness is an awful experience. Muscles aching, bones cracking as she sits up with a jolt. Sweating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her surroundings are well-lit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s back in Minnie’s house, no longer in the labyrinth. On the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clarity shoots through her system as Miyeon takes in her surroundings. Looking left and right. How did she even get here? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The rest of her friends are knocked out. Clinging to their partners. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s Minnie and Soojin slumped over at the table together. Yuqi and Soyeon lie on their sides on the floor, a few feet away from Miyeon. The four of them still in Yuqi’s demonic maze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really are the biggest loser I’ve ever met.” And Shuhua. Sitting, back leaning against the couch. The girl isn’t looking at Miyeon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rubbing her eyes, Miyeon blinks, truly at a loss. “What happened?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You started begging on your knees and screamed ‘society has progressed past the need for baby sharks’,” states Shuhua. Bluntly. The girl seems to be telling the truth. “So I disconnected the both of us.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Groaning to the heavens, Miyeon drops back onto the couch, covering her face with the back of her hand. She has no recollection of that happening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s too bad I didn’t take your picture, you could’ve gone viral in less than an hour.” Shuhua whirls around. In her conceited glory, in her arrogant triumph. Sinister lips tugging upward, subtle enough, yet Miyeon notices. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Miyeon has no words. She can’t think of an insulting comeback that isn’t straight up profanity. Since she has nothing better to say, she shuts her mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Cat got your tongue?” If it’s even possible, the smirk on Shuhua’s face widens. Infuriatingly so. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Glaring, drinking in the sharp intensity present in the girl’s eyes, something must be horribly wrong because Miyeon genuinely can’t find a good comeback. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[Yuqi]</b>
  <span> sorry about yesterday. I guess i fiddled too much with your microreader </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[Yuqi] </b>
  <span>and it caused hallucinations. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[Yuqi] </b>
  <span>And you kind of went insane</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[Yuqi] </b>
  <span>kind of</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[Miyeon] </b>
  <span>I apparently begged on my knees for baby sharks to die</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[Yuqi] </b>
  <span>oh</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[Yuqi] </b>
  <span>That is unfortunate, but at least Shuhua was with you </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[Yuqi] </b>
  <span>Miyeon?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>[Yuqi] </b>
  <span>don’t leave me on read?    </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>cyberpunk's release made me update lol</p><p>Shuhua has now seen Miyeon at her worst so it can only go up from here?</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>add me on <a href="https://twitter.com/ahealthyscalp?s=09">twt</a>, don't be shy</p></blockquote></div></div>
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